Traveling Statement
by CeruleanCat
Summary: AU, All Human. Jace, Isabelle, and Raphael are the next singing sensation, in a group called Traveling Statement. Clary and Simon are two regular teenagers who happen to win tickets to TS's next performance. After an incident, Traveling Statement gets to know the two. Clary/Simon, Clary/Raphael, and a really jealous Jace. :) R&R- Cat
1. Chapter 1

**AN: I know this has been done before, but give me a chance...**

"And now, give it up for Traveling Statement, with their versions of Feel This Moment, Timber, Payphone, Scream and Shout, and more!" The announcer's voice filled the stadium, which was crammed with thousands of fans. The three stood just out of view of the crowd, waiting for the countdown. The announcer's voice faded away, and the lights dimmed. A man with a headset stood in view of the three, and started counting backwards from ten. At "one", the first stepped into the path of the spotlights, which followed him until he reached the center of the stage. He paused a moment, letting the cameras focus on his face. The crowd erupted into cheers of 'Raphael!', and then the music started.

Raphael was dressed in a black suit with a grey tie, sunglasses perched on his head, and the small headset that amplified his voice. He was standing in the only spotlight on the stage, the rest of the lights in the stadium dimmed. The beginning music to Feel This Moment pounded from the speakers, and Raphael started singing, causing every girl in the stadium to start screaming even louder. "Ask for money, and get advice. Ask for advice, and get money twice. I'm from the dirty, but that chico nice. You call it a moment; I call it life." Then a female voice broke in, seeming to come from all directions, since she was invisible in the darkness. On the second line, a second spotlight came in, revealing her to be a few feet away from Raphael.

Isabelle was in a floor length glittery gold dress, belting out the Christina Aguilera part in the song. She strutted around to the other side of Raphael, walking perfectly in her seven inch heels, her long black hair flowing and speckled with gold glitter, and a small gold star painted next to her left eye. The slow music continued, with Isabelle walking slowly towards the crowd when she sang, stopping when Raphael sang, when he would walk over to where she was and twirl her.

When the beat with no singing kicked in, she ripped off her gold dress, first the skirt, then top, revealing a black short skirt, and a gray with gold bikini top. She and Raphael did a few quick dance moves, and when the singing started up again, a second voice joined Raphael, and the third member of Traveling Statement joined them on stage; Jace. They continued the rest of the song like this, and at the end, when Isabelle did her solo before the end, the two guys lifted her up onto their shoulders, and the second before the song ended, she hopped off, and they posed before the lights cut out again.

They hurried off the stage to go change for the next song, congratulating each other before going into their dressing rooms. This was life for Traveling Statement.

**Isabelle's POV:**

After we got to the tour bus, barely avoiding all the crazed fans, we all collapsed. It was close to midnight, and we had been performing for the past three hours, but Jace still had enough energy to annoy Raphael and me. No surprise there. He draped his leather jacket (that he was known for) on my bed, then purposely went and got a bottle of cold water, went up to Raphael, and said with a smirk, "You look kinda tired. This'll wake you up, though, don't worry!" And he dumped the entire bottle over Raphael's head. I'm not going to be surprised when the police find Jace's body in a ditch. Raphael slowly pushed his wet hair out of his eyes, and then grabbed a bottle of red Gatorade, "Preparese para morir, mi amigo." _Prepare to die, my friend. _I should've gotten out of there, but I was interested to see who would win. So, Raphael opened it, and threw it at Jace, staining his white t-shirt pink, along with a big part of the carpet. I really didn't want for us to have the carpet replaced, again, so I shouted, "Okay, will you two just stop? It'll come out of your paycheck to have the carpet replaced, Raphael, and Jace, get your jacket off my bed before I decide to throw it out of the window."

Both of the boys, near soaking wet, turned towards me. They looked at each other, and then grabbed another bottle of water each. Oh crap. I only had time to jump to Jace's bed when Raphael threw the bottle, open, at me. Jace didn't, only because it was his bed, but I still got soaked. I slowly turned to them, Jace looking in horror at his bed, which was as wet as I was, and Raphael, who was smirking, "Uh oh, Izzy's maaaad now…"

I grabbed one of Jace's comic books, rolled it up, and started smacking Raphael, "This *thump* outfit *smack*, was (Ow, Izzy, I get it!), DESIGNER. You owe me so *hit* freaking *slap* bad."

Raphael ran away from me, hiding behind Jace, "Ay, chica loca, take Jace instead, I'm too pretty to die!"_ Ouch, crazy girl._ He pushed Jace forward, and laughed as he jumped to his own bed.

Then the bus pulled over. "Oh crap. If we need a sacrifice, I volunteer Raphael." Jace said. Jace quickly sat down in front of his bed, using a comic book to hide the cherry colored stain on his shirt. Raphael jumped to the couch, trying to fix his wet hair, while I looked down at my wet outfit. I ran to close the mini-fridge, now near empty, and then ducked behind my bed so that they wouldn't see my outfit.

I had barely gotten behind my bed when Alec and Magnus came in. We're screwed. Alec scowled at the bright red stain on the carpet, and the empty water bottles, and the way that Jace and Alec were drenched. He asked with a sigh, "Do I _want_ to know what happened?" Raphael muttered something about, "Fue culpa de la rubia. . ." _It was the blonde's fault_, Jace pretended to keep reading, and I poked my head up. "Nope," I squeaked.

Alec looked to each of us, "So, Jace, instead, why don't you tell me why the comic book you're reading is upside down, and why you're shirt is half pink; Raphael, you can explain the empty water bottles and stain on the carpet, and Izzy, I'll leave Magnus to deal with you." Magnus was fuming after catching a glimpse of my sodden outfit, and practically had steam coming out of his ears. "Isabelle Lightwood, explain why your _designer, two hundred dollar,_ outfit is wet."

"You know," I said shakily, "I think that falls under the category of 'Raphael's fault'." Magnus stomped behind the bed, looking at the full extent of the damage. He growled in frustration, looking like a feral cat with his feline contacts. Honestly, it was hard to take Magnus seriously because of the way he dresses, like now: today, he had his black hair gelled up into five points, covered in purple glitter, had elastic, purple, glittery pants, a lilac button down shirt that had a stuck up collar, and, yes, pink glitter on the sleeves, topping it off with cat contacts, amethyst eye shadow, and violet eye liner. When he turned around to go lecture the guys about the importance of designer clothes, I stuck my tongue out at Raphael. He looked ready to murder me, but Magnus was between us, so I was safe. He glared at me for a few more seconds, then gave up and started laughing.

Alec looked at him, "What is so funny, Raphael Santiago?"

Raphael put on his innocent look, and replied naively, "The fact that you two are now starting to call us by our full names."

Alec clenched his fists, and then stormed back to the front, where he started the bus up again. Magnus glared at us before prancing after Alec; in case you haven't figured it out, Alec was our bus driver, and Magnus served as the Head Chaperone of Hair, Clothes, and Make-Up. Every performance we had to bribe him so we wouldn't go onstage covered in glitter. We all sighed in relief, and then started picking up our mess. Raphael picked up all of the bottles, and Jace had just shouted, "I call the shower-" When I ran past him into the bathroom, locking the door behind me. I shouted out, "Ha! Ladies first, blondie!"

Jace let out a groan, then teased, "If that's true, then why do _you_ get to go first?! If anything, that means Raphael gets first dibs…" I heard a loud thump, and Jace yelled out in pain.

I turned on the shower ignoring them. Even though people say it's all hard to be in the singing or dancing business, it's not that bad when you practice all of your stuff _before _going on tour, like we do, then you get to goof off on the road between performances. And you get paid a lot.

Clary POV:

I sat in the passenger seat of Simon's car as he drove me to school. My mom would personally hunt down and murder any other guy who offered me a ride to school, but Simon had been my best friend since we started school in kindergarten.

"Thanks again for driving me to school, Simon." I said, to break the silence.

He looked at me, and then cracked up laughing, "Why so serious? I drive you to school, like, everyday!"

I let out a frustrated growl, "God, Simon, I was just trying to be polite!"

"Wow, you're right! If Clary Fray is being _polite_, I better enjoy it while it lasts!" He joked, rolling his eyes, "Clary, you're always polite. Loosen up a little."

I smacked his arm, and then cracked up laughing, "Ugh, you're right, I'm turning into you." Before he could reply, I turned on the radio full blast.

Blurred Lines happened to be on, and Simon reached over and changed the station, his cheeks flushed, "Clary, there are easier ways to hurt your ears. You know, like chopping them off. God knows I can't stand that song!"

I laughed, "_I_ don't run the radio stations, it's not my fault!"

Whatever song that had been on the new station had just ended, changing into the radio hosts offering another giveaway, "Ooooh, shut up, Simon, I like these giveaways!"

He looked confused, "I wasn't even talking-"

"Shut up! One time I won a gift card to Hot Topic from here!" I turned up the radio again, listening to see if it was anything good.

The cheerful radio hosts' voice came on, "Hey, everyone, today we have two tickets available to Traveling Statement's concert! Call in when the next song starts, and caller twenty seven will win. The number is 312-589-5040, now call in, and good luck!" **(AN: I really hope that isn't someone's actual phone number… :/ ) **

Simon looked at me, hopeful, "It would be cool just to say we went to it… They _are_ the next big singing group…"

I stared him down, then gave in and pulled out my phone, dialed in the number, and waited for the song to start. When it did, I waited a second, and then pressed 'call'. It rang a few times, and then actually went through!

The familiar radio hosts' voice came through, "And we have our lucky caller number twenty seven! What's you're name?"

I sat there stunned, "Crap, I actually got through? Uh, Clarissa Fray…" And that's how I made a fool of myself on the public radio.

The host let out a laugh, and then said, "All right, Clarissa, you can come down and get the tickets later, okay? I'm assuming you have school right now."

"Yeah, I'm already probably gonna be in trouble at home when I show up with hundred dollar tickets; skipping school wouldn't help…"

The announcer laughed, and then continued, "Actually, Clarissa, these are probably more around two hundred; they are front row."

If not for us arriving at school that very moment, I probably would've embarrassed myself even further, so I just said, "Uh, at school. I need to go…"

The host continued to laugh on the radio after I hung up, and I raised my eyebrows at Simon.

He just looked at me, surprised, "Well, that was interesting. Now, however, back to our normal school life." He flashed me a smile, and then came around to my side of the car, opening the door for me.

I smiled back, getting out, and then asked, "So, I'm hoping you are free Friday night, because I happen to have an extra ticket…"

He shoved me playfully, and then we walked towards the high school, Idris High, now having something to look forward to.

The rest of the school day dragged on, but eventually it was over, and Simon and I drove over to the radio station, which happened to be all the way across town. I called my mom, and nervously said, "Hi, mom. Um, I'll be a little late coming home… Yeah, I won something else from the radio station… What is it? Uh, it's tickets to Traveling Statement… Yeah, Simon and I are planning to go… Okay, bye, mom."

I sighed, leaning back into the car seat. Simon raised an eyebrow, and I said, "Yeah, she's letting me go."

"Okay, I might be wrong, but usuallyit's a _good_ thing when you're mom lets you go to a concert…" He said in confusion, although he was smirking.

I gave him an annoyed glare, "It is, but she won't leave me alone about how I'm always hanging out with you."

He laughed, knowing how my mom loves to complain about near everything that causes me to be even a minute late. "We could do what they did in the Yoplait Swapportunity commercial, you know, get one of the popular girls to come over to your house, dressed in one of their slutty outfits, say their your new best friend… She won't question me again."

I laughed, turning up the radio, "That would go well… Especially knowing my mom." We got to the radio station pretty fast, and then rushed home, that way my mom would be in a better mood. Simon was holding the tickets, which were a silvery color, and reflected rainbow colors in the sun. "Wow, Clary," he said, admiring the tickets, "I need to tune into that station more often…"

I opened the door slowly, knowing my mom didn't like a lot of noise. "Hey, mom, I'm home!" I said.

"I'm here, too, Mrs. Fray." Simon muttered, giving me a fake glare for not announcing him.

"Oh yeah, Simon's here." I said, smiling at him.

He smiled back, "Thank you for properly introducing me, finally."

I play shoved him, walking into the living room to see my mom painting. "Hey, Clary. Hi, Simon."

"Mom, so tomorrow, we're probably gonna head straight to Java Jones before the concert, and don't expect me home before midnight." The concert started at nine, was two hours long, but had an hour afterwards for autographs and souvenir buying.

My mom sighed, "Fine. Simon, if you two stay out past 12:30, it's on your head."

Simon gaped, then said, "'K, Mrs. Fray…"

I laughed at him, then waved bye over my shoulder as I headed to my room. I could here his exasperated sigh, then him walking to the door. I flopped onto my bed, put on my Beats, and started sketching the silvery tickets. Tomorrow would be fun.

** Next day, after school:**

I was going through my closet, looking for something simple for the concert. I flung away an old shirt, a skirt I would never wear, and more. I eventually decided on jean short shorts, which, on the right leg of the front, was covered in gold studs, black boots, and a dark green flowing shirt that had open shoulders. I put my hair back into a low ponytail, and added a little mascara. After thirty minutes of getting ready, I finally came out of my room. Simon had been waiting for me in the living room for the whole thirty minutes, and was clearly ready to go.

"Now can we go? I _really_ need some coffee…" Simon said, already heading for the front door. Yeah, I decided I needed to stop at home after all, so we were already running behind.

"Bye, mom!" I called over my shoulder. We rushed out of the apartment building, knowing that my mom has a tendency to change her mind. Very quickly. We got in Simon's car, swiftly pulling away from the curb. We listened to the radio the whole way, which was playing a few of Traveling Statement's songs. We pulled into Java Jones, Simon exaggeratedly opening the door for me, bowing, and saying in a fake British accent, "After you, my lady."

I rolled my eyes at him, "I'm not some helpless maiden from your fantasy games."

He scoffed at me, "Fine, you're right... You can pay for our coffee, then."

I hit him playfully in the arm, and then walked up to the counter, "One tall Mocha Frappuccino, and, Simon, what'd you want again? Oh yeah, and one Caramel Latte." We got our coffee to go, getting back in the car.

"So, tell me again, Clary, why we had to leave so early for the concert; it doesn't start for, like, thirty minutes?"

"Because," I said between sips of my frappuccino, "we want to beat all of the crazed fans."

Simon raised an eyebrow, "And we're not crazed fans?"

"No, crazed fans are the people who try and mob the tour bus; we are there for the experience of going to a concert. Besides, most fans know the singers' birthdays, address', pets' names, etcetera, while we barely know their first names: Raphael, Jace, and Isabelle. See the difference?"  
He rolled his eyes at me, "I'm sure you're just there for the two guy singers."

"Naw, that's as stupid as you going for the girl singer." I said teasingly.

We arrived at the concert place pretty soon. It was in a big stadium, with a stage facing half of it. It was huge, and that half that was facing the stage could easily fit thousands of people. Simon whistled, "Wow." They had already started letting people in, but barely.

We stood in line for about five minutes, since we already had our tickets, and a security guard led us to the front, which was roped off, handed us V.I.P. passes, and left us. We were right in front of the stage, "Wow is right."

I looked back at the rest of the stadium, which was filling up fast. In five minutes all of the seats were full. Everyone in the stadium was murmuring excitedly, drowning out every other noise. I had to yell to talk to Simon, who was standing next to me.

"Simon! When do you think they're going to start?" I called out over the drone of voices.

"I don't know! I hope soon, I can't listen to the crazed fans any longer!" He called back, smirking.

I smiled at him, "Yeah, I know, right?" Just then the announcer's voice came over the speakers, making everyone in the stadium temporarily shut up.

"Traveling Statement will be performing in a few minutes, get ready!" This erupted cheers from everyone, including me and Simon. Sure enough, music started playing, and the lights dimmed. One of the guys started singing, Jace, I think, and even though he was barely a silhouette, every girl in the stadium started screaming. Simon made exaggerated gestures, covering his ears and glaring at the general stadium. I laughed, and even though I doubt he heard me, he got the idea and smirked.

The stage suddenly lit up, revealing Jace standing there in a torn white t-shirt and scuffed up jeans singing to Payphone, originally by Maroon 5. Isabelle and Raphael were on stage, too, dancing with the background dancers. Isabelle danced the whole song, but Raphael stepped in when the rapping part came up.

Towards the end, when Jace was the only one singing, Raphael and Isabelle walked along the edge of the stage, reaching down and, like, high-fiving the fans. I never understood that. I caught Simon's eye as they were coming near our area. He shrugged his shoulders at me and mouthed 'Why not?', even though he was smirking. Isabelle came by first, smiling at the general audience. Simon reached up for her hand and tapped it, getting her attention. She looked amused, and looked down at Simon, and he mouthed 'Call me'. She just kept smiling and moved down the stage.

I glared at Simon, and he laughed at me. I smiled back, rolling my eyes at him, and playfully hit him in the arm. Raphael was coming near us, and I leaned in Simon's ear, so he'd here me, and asked, "You gonna ask him, too?"

Simon rolled his eyes at me, and playfully shoved me away. I wasn't prepared, and actually fell. I flailed back, and Simon caught me, right in time to the song. He pulled me back up, again in time to the beat, and the momentum caused me to fall against him. I pulled back, brushing myself off. Raphael, who had been going near our area of the stage, saw that and grinned.

I noticed that people around us had noticed it too, and one girl, who had obviously had too much to drink, called out, 'Lovebirds!', although it was barely audible over the screaming fans. I was about to flip the girl off, but then, to my horror, I realized we were on the kiss cam. And almost everyone in the stadium had realized it, too. The performers didn't falter, but everyone in the stadium had started chanting, "Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!"

With the music still blaring, first of all I looked around to figure out where the camera was, flipped it off, which got everyone in the stadium laughing, then leaned forward and kissed Simon. He relaxed after a second, and then kissed me back.

Everyone who was paying attention to the kiss cam cheered. But we were still on the camera. I _really_ didn't like being the center of attention, so I mouthed to Simon, "I'll be back", then pushed past the other people in the front row, and headed for the bathrooms. The song ended as I was leaving the row, the announcer saying Traveling Statement would be back in five minutes for 'Timber'. That gave me enough time.

I opened the heavy door to the bathroom, gratefully noticing it was empty. Of course. No girl wanted to miss seeing Jace or Raphael. I went to the long line of sinks, fixing my hair in the mirror. I added some more mascara, a little gold eye shadow, and then I heard the door open. I ignored it, until I saw it wasn't a girl, it was a big guy, who looked drunk. He slurred out, "You looked a like quite the kissa' on the kiss cam, girly."

I turned around, looking for a way out, but he had the exit blocked. He sauntered forward, knowing I was trapped. I felt my heart beating faster, looking for a way out. Maybe I could push past him, he looked pretty drunk. I ran forward, trying to push him out of the way, but he stopped me, pinning me against the wall.

No matter how weak it was, I knew I had to try and scream to get someone's attention. "Let go of me!" I screamed at the top of my lungs, "Simon, help!" Even though I knew it was a long shot, I had to try. He grinned down on me (he was probably nine inches taller than me), and said, still slurred, "I like 'em feisty…"

Then the door opened, and an accented voice said, "Hello? Is someone in here? I thought I heard a scream."

We were unfortunately hidden around the corner, so I tried to scream, but he covered my mouth with his hand, so it came out muffled. I bit down, hard, on his fingers, and he cursed, "Stupid bitch!" And he slammed me down against the hard marble countertop of the sink, my head taking the worst of it. I let out a scream, but from pain, and the man ran out, pushing past whoever had heard my scream.

My vision was blacking out, and I thought airily, "I must have hit my head harder than I thought…" Then a blurry figure came around the corner, and let out a gasp at seeing me. I hesitantly raised my hand to the back of my head, and it came away sticky with blood. I frowned at my bloody fingers, "Ow."

I tried to stand up, but the world tilted around me, and I ended falling back down. The figure cursed in another language, Spanish, maybe, and called out for someone, but I didn't catch the name. He came forward, tentatively helping me to my feet. He told me something, but I didn't hear it, and just stood there, trying not to fall as the floor seemed to lurch around me. Then my vision blacked out all the way.


	2. Chapter 2

_AN: OMG! Thank you guys sooo freaking much for reading T.S! You can skip down to the actual writing if you want, but if you've followed/reviewed/favorited, I'm gonna give you credit, so you might wanna read this and check for your Username :) Okay, I want to shout out to the people who have reviewed: _**Primrose Masen Weasley;****_thelastheronadale;_****Mollytamale****; ****_MajesticSteelHearts;_****Jade (a guest);****_greygirl12358 (a guest);_**** Minty (a guest)****_ and 4 guests who remained anonymous. _****I only wrote it like this to make the names stand out :)**

_Now for people who have followed: __**carlaylay23; **_**hiddengymnast; ****_catherinewarne99;_****Soup123321;****_addyoung16; _****babygirl99882****; ****_Artdrunky; _****mortalinstrumentsgurl1****; ****_Omgcanyoubelievesomeone; _****Ydissbooksogood****; ****_divergentdinosaur; _****Make-my-life-a-book****; ****_cloescar38; _****noaverageangel****; ****_ClaceLover; _****Angel210142****; ****_thelastheronadale; _****Surroundedbygreenwalls****; ****_stealy10;_****ClaryElena****; ****_Lavora; _****MigiLove2143****; ****_musicalnerdgeek;_****okayitswayland****; ****_Primrose Masen Weasley; _****Buttercupcutie3265****; ****_mysticbaker, _****and ****yoitsyourstruly.**

** One more thing, then I'll move onto the story! Promise! Now, if you favorited me or T.S.: ****_Soup123321; _****addyoung16****; ****_Ydissbooksogood; _****ILoveGoodBooks****; ****_AshLovesHue; _****noaverageangel****; ****_ClaceLover; _****NoFearAtAll****; ****_stealy10; _****musicalnerdgeek****; ****_mysticbaker; _****Yesbooks****; ****_Herondale-all-the-way._**

_ Okay, if you actually read all that, thank you! Now onto the story, as promised :) -Cat_

**Raphael POV: **

Jace, Izzy, and I were enjoying our quick break, taking a back hallway that wasn't open to the public; it was the only way to get to our dressing rooms without being mobbed. We were talking about how maybe we could stop by Dunkin Donuts, when I heard a faint scream, "Uh, did you hear that, Jace?"

Jace rolled his eyes, "Maybe it was a vampire hiding in the walls." He put his fingers in front of his mouth to mimic fangs, hissing at Izzy. Izzy laughed, "I'm sure it was a fan, screaming in pain because they realized you weren't going to be performing the next song."

"Or out of excitement of seeing me." Jace said, cocky as ever.

"Todo lo que describe Jace: arrogante, estúpido, lleno de sí mismo, molesto como el infierno, y un aspirante a rubio." _Everything that describes Jace: cocky, stupid, full of himself, annoying as Hell, and a blonde wannabe._ I murmured to myself, smirking. Izzy, who had started to catch on to some reoccurring Spanish words, giggled, and Jace just shook his head in confusion.

"I'm gonna go see what it was…" I said, walking back to the main hallway. I went in the direction I heard the scream from, and it ended up being the woman's bathroom. _Grande, simplemente genial, _I thought to myself. _Great, just great._ I opened the door slightly, "Hello? Is someone in here? I thought I heard a scream."

Then I heard a stifled scream, and opened the door further, listening. I heard a deep voice, one that didn't belong in the woman's bathroom, call out, "Stupid bitch!" followed by a thud and a girl's scream. A lumbering, drunken man pushed past me, heading back to the stadium. I hurried in, and saw a girl with fiery red hair sliding to the ground against the sink countertops. She raised a shaking hand, touched the back of her head, and brought it away covered in blood. She let out a little, "Ow.", and then tried to stand up, and fell back to where she was.

I cursed, and then yelled out, "Jace! Izzy!" I helped her to her feet, and tenderly said, "It's okay, we'll get you to a hospital", but it seemed to go over her head. She swayed on her feet, and then went limp. I cursed again, calling for Jace and Izzy, and in the meantime tried to see how bad she was hurt. The back of her head was covered in blood, and dark bruises were forming on her arms from where she'd been slammed against the marble. I gently lay her on the countertop, and from there picked her up.

Even though her smeared make-up covered most of her face, I could recognize her from the kiss cam, and remembered how she looked like she did it just to get away from being in the spotlight. I draped her across my arms, and stepped into the hall, where Jace and Izzy, taking their time, were walking down the hallways. Their carefree expressions melted when they saw the limp girl in my arms. Izzy rushed forward, bombarding me with questions, but I shut her up by saying, "Go get a medic."

I waved Jace over, who was standing there like an idiot, saying drily, "Vampiro en la pared, eh? _Vampire in the wall, eh?_ How about you take her with Izzy, the quicker she gets medical attention, the better, judging by the pool of blood she was in."

Jace raised an eyebrow at me, silently asking 'And you're doing what?'

I rolled my eyes, "Remember the chico que involuntariamente dio un beso?_ The boy she unwillingly kissed? _I'm pretty sure he'd appreciate knowing what happened to his friend."

Jace gently lifted the girl out of my arms, frowning down at her, "So, what _did_ happen to her?"

I felt my cheeks flush, "She was about to be raped."

Jace stiffened, then turned away with the girl and went after Izzy. Jace was my best friend, and I trusted him whole-heartedly, so I broke into a jog towards the announcer's booth. I quickly opened the door, and told him, "There's gonna be a delay; make up some excuse to buy us ten to twenty minutes."

He looked at me, sighed, and then pressed the speaker button. I ran out and headed for the actual stadium seats. I pulled on a dark jacket and sunglasses, and then headed to the front row. The announcer's voice came over the stadium, cheerful as ever, saying that Izzy had a fashion emergency, and needed ten to twenty minutes to fix it. The audience let out a collection of giggles, and comments about 'that's so Isabelle'. I kept my head down, until I recognized the guy. I was almost completely guessing at who he was, since I didn't know either of their names, and it wasn't as if I could ask the girl.

I said to him, "Are you the one with the pelirrojo _red-headed _friend?"

He glared at me, not recognizing me underneath the hood, "I'm tired of being teased about that. She just did it so all of the creeps in the audience would stop staring at her. Back off."

I lowered my sunglasses so he could see my face; he raised his eyebrows. "Look, I don't know either of your names, but she's hurt really bad. A guy was about to rape her, but I happened to walk by and heard her. He didn't do anything, that way, but hurt her head pretty bad."

The guy's face paled, "Oh God, Clary. Where is she?"

"With a medic, hopefully. I trust Jace to get her there. I would've had a security guard come get you, instead of risking getting trampled by this," I gestured to the crowd, "But it looked like she'd need to go to a hospital, and pretty soon."

The guy's eyes widened, "Uh, thanks, I guess. I'm Simon. Now, uh, shouldn't we be going?"

I smiled, Simon was funny, if not on purpose, "Yeah, I think I know where Jace and Izzy would've taken her."

We hurried past the front row, occasionally having to push a few people out of the way, until we reached the empty hallway that led to the bathrooms. I turned to the hallway that was watched by a security guard. I pulled back my hood so he could see my face, and then walked past him, Simon at my heels. I kept walking, looking through every doorway, and then heard Izzy, "Raphael! We're over here!"

She was a few doors down, biting her bottom lip the way she does when she's nervous. I jogged over to her, knowing Simon would follow me. I peered into the room, where the girl, Clary, was still unconscious. Simon pushed past me, going to the girl's side, holding her hand, and saying her name over and over again. Her hand twitched, but that was all. I turned to the medic, who was standing by, lost, "Did you call 911?"

He turned pink, "Yeah, I wasn't sure if you guys would want that kind of publicity, but Jace insisted."

I sighed; we were going to get a lot of unwanted attention for this, "When will they be here?"

"In a few minutes; they're going to park in the back, and if anyone asks what they're doing, they'll say a drunken guy fell and hit his head."

"Okay, that's not too bad, I guess." I said, looking at the girl.

I looked at the room; we were in a tiny nurse's office, and the girl was on a white cot, although now it was turning red around her head. Everyone in the room was looking down at the girl for a good two minutes before someone cleared their throat in the doorway. Alec was leaning against the doorframe, and Magnus was waiting behind him, just inside the hallway.

Alec looked apologetic, "You guys, the time the announcer dude bought you is running out; I hate to be the one to say it, but the show must go on, unless you want an angry mob tipping over the bus." I turned reluctantly to the girl, whose breaths were getting shallower by the minute. I turned to Simon, "Expect us at the hospital after the concert; I doubt they're going to let her out before tomorrow." I tenderly brushed one of her red curls out of her face, paling from blood loss.

Izzy nodded, and then hurried out of the room, followed by Jace. Simon hadn't looked up from Clary's face, so I left the room without saying a word, knowing it'd be hard to perform enthusiastically after what had happened to Clary…

**Simon POV:**

After the trio had left, it took the ambulance four minutes to arrive. Four agonizingly slow minutes. The paramedics came in silently, as promised, bearing a stretcher. They lifted Clary's limp form onto it gingerly, and carried her out into the hallway. Before rushing her out to the waiting ambulance, one of the medics turned to me, "I'm assuming you have your own car, right?" I nodded, and he continued, "How about you meet us at the hospital? I wouldn't leave your car here at these hours, if I were you."

I nodded again, "Yeah, I know what you mean."

The paramedic said, "We're taking her to the nearest infirmary; the Max Memorial Hospital; you know where that is? It's up by the old church on Diamond Street."

I nodded, already turning to go, "I'll follow you guys. If you need her mom's phone number, check her phone, I don't think it's locked."

I heard the paramedic's shoes squeaking against the floor as they half walked half jogged towards the back door. After I heard the door close, I quickened my pace, ending up speed walking through the empty hallways, my head down.

_Poor Clary. What if she doesn't get better?_ I thought to myself, _No, Clary's strong; she'll get through this, I know. I know her, she'll be strong. She'll recover just fine, and then maybe we could go to another concert; I could even ask her out, like a date… _

I shook my head, trying to get that thought out of my head. _No. Bad Simon. Besides, you know you'd never be able to do it._ I reached the end of the hall, pushing on the revolving the door until the gust of cold air hit me. I put my hands in my pockets, stomping out to my car. I turned on the radio as I pulled out of the crowded parking lot, but it wasn't the same without Clary there. Her dripping sarcasm; her spunky attitude… _Quit acting like she's going to die. Bad. Simon. _I scolded myself.

I heard faint sirens in the background, and assumed that the ambulance carrying Clary had turned them on, and now they'd be able to get there sooner. A thin smile came across my lips, but I turned it into a frown just as quickly. There was a lot of traffic_._ I honked at the cars, but it didn't help. I huffed back in the seat,_ Who the hell is out at this time on a Friday?_ I thought in disbelief. Then, proving my point, a young woman, maybe twenty, stumbled along the sidewalk, barefoot, lurching from side to side every few steps. I collapsed forward, banging my head against the steering wheel's horn repeatedly. _God dammit, of all of the nights, half of New York decides to have a night out TONIGHT._

I looked at the myriad of cars in front of me, and pulled out my phone; time for the dreaded hour. Telling Mrs. Fray what happened.

I dialed her number, and it picked up after a few rings, "Oh, hi, Simon, I thought you guys weren't coming home until midnight-ish."

I gulped, "Uh, well, Mrs. Fray., there was kinda an accident…"

Her voice turned ice cold, "What kind of accident?"

I closed my eyes shut, preparing for the fury of Jocelyn Fray, "The thing is, she's okay, but… You know, it would be easier to say in person; meet me at the Max Memorial Hospital."

She was yelling at me now, demanding to know what happened. I said loudly, to be heard over her, "Bye!" I hung up, staring at the roof of the car. _Worst. Night. Ever. _

**Clary POV: (About halfway to the Hospital)**

I felt really groggy for some reason, and the bed I was in was _really _uncomfortable. And I had a killer headache. I groaned, trying to remember where I was.

Hushed voices broke the silence, "Clary Fray, can you hear me?"

I tried to open my eyes, but it took a few tries, since they seemed to be stuck shut. I blinked, my eyes trying to adjust to the bright light. Several blurry figures were leaning over me, one shining a bright light into my eyes. I tried to turn my head away from it, but a crackling pain went through my skull. I felt a pair of hands hold my head in place, telling me, "Don't move your head, Clary."

I closed my eyes, spots of color dancing across the black. A different voice spoke, the noise worsening the headache, "Clary, can you open your eyes?"

I unwillingly opened my eyes, and had the light shined into them again, but I didn't have the strength to pull away. One of the people said, "Step on it. Dilated pupils, loss of consciousness… Clary, how many fingers am I holding up?" He held up two fingers, everyone always does, but they looked like four.

I replied drily, "You're holding up two, that is a horrible vision test; everyone always holds up two fingers. If you're asking me if my vision is blurred, yes, you all look like blue smudges, and your fingers are distorted."

One of the blue figures scoffed, "She told you."

The one who had done the vision test continued, "Any dizziness? A headache?"

"Yes and yes." I said, closing my eyes again, trying to get the headache to fade.

"Call ahead. Tell them patient has dilated pupils, loss of consciousness, blurred vision, headache, and dizziness; possible closed head injury, possible concussion, severity unknown."

I looked around as far as I could without moving my head, "Where am I?"

"You're in an ambulance; you hit your head pretty bad at a concert."

Judging by the pain in my arms, I hurt them, too. The whine of the siren now became apparent, along with the screech of the wheels. I moaned, every little sound increasing the pounding in my head. One of the figures, they were still hazy, said, "Would it be easier to put her under?"

"If she agrees to it," said another, looking down to me, "Do you?"

I was about to nod my head, then thought better of it, "Please."

I felt a cool liquid entering my arm, through an IV they put in before I had woken. Already I could feel bliss as my headache melted away, along with my consciousness. Right before I went under all the way, there was a moment of paradise when all of the pain was gone, even the small pinch of the IV, and I felt like I was floating. . .

**AN: Is Clary ****_really_**** okay, or is it just the trauma talking? **

**Simon POV: **

It took me twenty minutes to the hospital. I hurried to the front desk to ask for instructions about how to get to a friend who came in by ambulance. The receptionist checked my ID, and then pointed me to the ER, where I could show my ID to the receptionist over there and get in to see my friend.

When I reached the ER, I quickly got shown to where Clary was; since her mother wasn't here yet, I was the only one who knew her. She was surrounded by nurses in scrubs, beeping machines, and had a tube down her throat. I just looked at her for a while: her red hair flamed out, even brighter against the stark white of the cot; her freckled skin pale from the blood she lost; the drab oversized hospital gown she was in flowing out around her, but she was still Clary. The nurses were talking in hushed tones, glancing at Clary, then me. One of them finally stepped away from Clary's cot, walking over to me.

"Clary has a severe closed head injury: a concussion. We're confident that she'll recover, with bed rest, so we're going to keep her over night, giving her anti-inflammatory medicine." The nurse, who was around forty, said.

"Will she wake up anytime soon?" I asked, glancing back at Clary.

"As soon as the drugs we gave her wear off, which could be anytime in the next thirty minutes."

I looked at Clary, her face peaceful in sleep, "Is there anyway I could stay the night here? I want to be here right when she wakes up."

The nurse looked pitiful, "Of course, dear."

I stood out of the way, watching the ER chaos while the nurse went to get a spare cot. She returned a few minutes later, wheeling the cot up next to Clary's. I sat down on it gratefully, holding Clary's hand. Her face looked so beautiful, even if she did have a tube down her throat and bandages wrapped around part of her head. I leaned forward, kissed her on her forehead, gently brushing her curls out of her face. Only one nurse remained, who injected something into Clary's IV, then left, closing the door behind her. I lay down on my cot, staring at the ceiling, determined to be awake when Clary woke up. But, then again, I was always the first one to fall asleep when we had sleepovers, and I knew it was a small chance I would stay awake that long. Sure enough, not ten minutes later, around 10:50, I felt my eyelids get heavy. As I fell asleep, I still held onto Clary's hand. . .

**AN: Are the doctors right about how severe Clary's injury was? Or is it beyond a normal concussion?**

** Jocelyn POV: (dun dun duuuuuun! *dramatic music*)**

I got in my car right after Simon hung up with me, slamming the car door shut. I pulled out as fast as I could without running anyone over, and then slammed on the gas. _What happened to Clary? Is she okay? Why hasn't she called me yet?_ I thought frantically as I headed for the Max Memorial Hospital. _Mrs. Lewis was going to be hearing about this…_ My forehead knit together in a frown, seeing all of the traffic in front of me.

I always protected Clary, yet something still managed to happen, and now Simon won't even tell me what happened! I mean, he was a nice boy, and all, but what could be so bad that he didn't want to tell me?

I fumed for a good thirty minutes before I finally reached the hospital. I parked the car, and then quickly went through the ER doors. I impatiently waited behind a woman at the desk, who took _ten whole minutes _to tell the receptionist what was wrong. I tapped my foot impatiently, and she finally finished. I brushed my curly red hair out of my face, and asked the ER receptionist as calmly as I possibly could, "Do you know where I could find my daughter, Clarissa Fray?"

A nurse, who was standing nearby, overheard, "Wait, are you her mother? I know where she is, I'll show you."

I smiled gratefully, and followed the nurse as she led me through different hallways until we reached a recovery room. That was a good sign; better than Clary being in surgery. The nurse stepped back, motioning me in, "We believe she has a mild concussion; that's what the MRI showed. Her friend, Simon Lewis, was able to help us a lot, with his knowledge of how the injury occurred."

I felt my jaw tighten, "Simon is here?"

The nurse nodded, perplexed. I nearly growled, then opened the door quietly, which was hard to do since I was thinking of all the ways I could punish Simon.

Sure enough, there were two cots in the room, lit only by the dim lights coming off the beeping machine against the wall, which monitored Clary's heart rate. Clary lay in one of the cots, a tube connected to an oxygen machine, white bandages wrapping around the back of her head, and an IV with a clear drip in the crook of her arm. Simon was on the one next to her, asleep, his hand loosely clutching Clary's. I silently walked forward towards Clary and Simon. I sat on the edge of her cot, stroking her free hand. "How long will she be out?"

The nurse checked a clipboard, "Um, she should've waken up by now, actually." A worried frown creased her face, "Give me a moment." She hurried out of the room.

I used this time to plod over to Simon. I shook him awake roughly, giving him my well known glare-of-death. He pushed his glasses up on his nose, giving me a nervous smile, "Hey, Mrs. Fray, what's up?"

I pointed at Clary, and by the time the nurse came back, he had explained everything. The nurse entered the room, followed by a pair of doctors.

"The meds the paramedics gave her should've worn off by now. Do concussions cause this?"

One of the doctors stepped forward, quickly performing a few tests to make sure Clary really was unconscious. He examined her blood pressure, and the other vital signs, and frowned. "What tests were done?"

"CT, and we determined it was a concussion." The nurse said, glancing at Clary.

"Did you do an MRI?"

"No," she hesitated.

The doctor looked worried, "We might have a contusion."

The other doctor, who hadn't been saying anything, nodded slowly, "It's possible. Nurse Varella and I will take her down to radiology; can you stay and explain the risks of contusions to Mrs. Fray?"

I gulped. That didn't sound good.

**AN: Sorry it took so long! Did you guys like it?! Review or PM me on your thoughts, maybe what you want to see more of in Ch3… Oh, and look up what a contusion is, too, to see what I have done; muahaha! –Cat :) **

**Okay, if you haven't looked up effects of contusions yet, look it up. I have something planned out for Clary, and it might give you an idea *evil grin***


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